


Chains that Bind

by Gorsecloud



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anachronistic, Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:19:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorsecloud/pseuds/Gorsecloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story compilation based on various prompts, from various points within canon. Xion-centric. No primary ships, though some might work their way in here and there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tears

It was not a perfect day, and it wouldn't have a perfect ending. The sunset had been that one golden moment, that shining hour of normalcy amid the turbulence of what had been happening. It had helped keep away the storm of emotion that crashed over later that night, curled up alone on her bed in her room. For that she was grateful. She couldn't break down around Axel, and especially not around Roxas. They would have asked questions she couldn't answer, and Roxas wouldn't have understood.

She'd been frantic, trying to find away to stop herself from slowly eating her best friend alive. She wasn't supposed to have feelings - or maybe she was, who knew if Replicas really had hearts or not - and yet she'd been so panicked, upon seeing the face of her true opponent just a few scant hours ago. She hadn't realized, she'd thought they'd _needed_ her and Roxas, and their Keyblades... she'd never have imagined they wanted one of them dead.

It was a realization. She was out of time. Either her life or Roxas's would have to end, and for her, the latter was not even open for consideration. She didn't belong here. She had to go back. And now the last ties she had to the life she'd led needed her to die, for their own sake.

What she'd told Roxas earlier - they didn't have anywhere to run - was a half-truth. If it were just the Organization, or even if Riku had chosen to hunt for them too, then they could have just run. Run and run and kept running until it didn't matter anymore. But it wasn't that simple. The true enemy of their coexistence, of the times spent together on the clock tower, or out doing missions, was _her_. No matter how far they got, how long they ran, _she would still be there_. Nothing would change that inescapable fact. For Roxas to live, she would have to die. It was that simple.

And yet it hurt.

She'd wanted to stay with them forever, done everything she could, and yet it had all been for nothing. It would be gone in the blink of an eye. She had no idea what would happen. Not having his memories had kept Sora asleep; so much of her was memories - what would happen when those memories were back where they belonged? Would there be any of her even left to remember?

There's a part of her that's still so scared. What would it be like to disappear? Would she know anything, feel anything after? There was some small comfort in knowing where she was going back to Sora, returning back to his heart and staying there. It was the only thing she felt truly sure about.

But everything else still hurt.

It hurt so much that alone in her room that night, she couldn't stop the tears running down her face; tears she was not supposed to be able to shed, tears she had no right to shed, when she'd made so many mistakes, and her existence caused so many problems and hurt so many people. And it'd only gotten worse, when she'd reached up to wipe her eyes, and felt a face that wasn't hers, reached up and brushed against spikes of hair that weren't hers. In her panic the sobs had returned, stronger than ever, tears blurring her vision once more until she could barely even notice that the strands between her fingers were black and straight once more.

No one would know the first time Xion had ever really cried herself to sleep. The next day she sat up, wiped her face and got to her feet, her head already churning with plans and ideas as she pulled her hood up over her head, unsurprised that it didn't slip around her head as easily as it usually did.

She'd indulged herself. Now she had to act.


	2. Thoughts of Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if it's ever confirmed that Xion travels with Riku in between Day 270-somethingish and day 298, but I personally believe she did, and it's the assumption I'm going with for this chapter.

She doesn't talk with Riku all that much, while they're travelling together, and when she does, the conversation comes in fits and bursts that are few and far between. In some ways, it seems like he's just like that; someone quiet, who doesn't say much unless there's something to say. She doesn't have as many memories of him, so it's hard to say how much it lines up with what she knows. Or rather, what Sora knows.

But the other part of her knows that he's giving her time to herself to think. This is her choice, her decision. And it will be a big one. Giving back the memories inside of her was not as simple as just handing back a borrowed item. It wouldn't be this hard to choose if it was. And from what she gathers the few times she's asked why he's letting her stay, he wants her to make the choice for herself. Even though his presence - silent as it is - adds a bias, better the one who gave her the choice in the first place than the Organization, who never gave her any choices at all.

Without her friends, her decision would have been so much easier. But as she travels, her thoughts dwell on them, a sharp pang that's come and gone and come again as she's traveled, both before and after gaining a silent companion. She glances over her shoulder, expecting to see someone there, or something familiar, and she just doesn't know what it is. It even makes it hard to sleep some nights, tossing and turning with a vague hollow feeling in her chest.

The one time she asks, there's a pause, before Riku finally replies, "You're probably homesick."

The answer startles her. She's not sure she had or can ever really think of The World that Never Was as "home." It's the only place she's ever known, to be sure. But the feelings she's gotten there, of being an outsider, having to hide so much of herself. Unlike Roxas, it hasn't escaped her attention that the name and the chairs have never changed, that she's always been the odd one out, fourteenth of a group that only counted the first thirteen.

For a day or two, his response actually distracts her and she wonders, as they travel from world to world, hiding their trail to prevent pursuers. And it's finally as she's staring at unfamiliar tree roots when she's supposed to be sleeping that she gets it.

Her friends are her home.

Her home is sitting atop the clock tower, joking and pushing, laughing despite not having hearts to feel amusement with. Her home is a blonde spiky-haired teen holding up a stick and talking about improvisation. Her home is a tall red-haired man with an easy laugh and a catchphrase they're both sick of hearing and yet not.

And what's more, she gets why Riku never seemed bothered, about her being homesick - another tie that might make it harder to give up. After all, she may not have many memories of him, but the ones she does have, there are three of them. Sitting together on palm trees, making plans to see other worlds... Something he must miss, just as she misses sitting with Roxas and Axel, watching their own sunset.

It seems their pain is a shared one.

She isn't sure what she is yet, or what she needs to be - Xion, or a part of Sora. But she knows what she wants, so she clings these memories, these thoughts of her friends. They are what keep her being "her," since so much of what she is just pure memories.

It doesn't make it easier, but her whole life has been a struggle anyways. At least this is a struggle she's accepted herself.


	3. Sky Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stealth spoilers that are not for Re:coded and KH3D.

She'd told Roxas, with what little consciousness she'd had left then, that their memories would be together inside Sora forever.

She hadn't quite realized what all that had truly meant.

It'd been quiet when she'd first arrived, and she'd rested there, both at peace and in pain, glad to be no longer fighting and lamenting the loss of one of the few things she'd had worth fighting for. Then, her memories had been her solace, and she'd drifted through them, recalling their warmth, their bittersweet beauty.

Then a moment, an day, a year later, and suddenly there was another. It was impossible to tell how long it had been. Time had no meaning for either of them - mere collections of memories with a dreamlike sense of self, safe in Sora's heart.

It was hard to say how she knew, not having much of a sense of self anymore. But there had come a point in her drifting where there'd been a sort of... mingling. Where she languidly reached out and brushed memories not her own, or Sora's. Then there'd been a face, a voice, and she'd known, and even in her sleep, she'd felt a surge of hope, and joy. The vague reactions of surprise and confusion were as painful as they were expected, but in the end it hadn't mattered for very long.

He'd forgotten her, back in the real world. But in Sora's heart, all the pieces were there - Sora's memories and her own. As she'd gently poked and prodded, as they'd drifted through their memories, it was like a haze being lifted. A gap he hadn't realized being filled, as much as there was a new figure in his memories, one he hadn't seen before, yet wasn't surprised was there. As their shared history finally came into clear focus, their relief was mutual, as their dream-consciousnesses clung together in a way that neither could describe.

And yet the mingling continued, past the things they'd shared to the things they'd hadn't, her travels with Riku, his week in the Digital Twilight Town, with friends as good as she and Axel had been, though they'd been nothing but a lie... The "imposter" facing her at the Bridge of Beast's Castle. The winner stick. A pink-and-yellow Thalassa Shell. Sitting across from a blond haired girl in a white room.

Axel yelling that he'd always be there to bring them back, no matter how far they ran.

One thing that stands out among their shared recollections are their individual struggles with Sora's memories. It's harder to pin down the memories themselves, especially for her. Even if they are all in Sora's heart, Roxas is so much more in touch with Sora's conscious memories than she, scattered and fragmented as she is. They can still share; it just takes time - not that time has much meaning for either of them in this state.

She finally learned though, of the questions he'd been wanting to ask, about the boy in red who flashed so often in his mind. It had become so defining for him, enforced by a fleeting memory of the day Axel told him why the sun sets red. She had indeed seen Sora, she is finally able to answer, with notes with vague amusement.

But for her, she replies in that way they "talk", gently guiding each other to relevant memories and feelings - yes _feelings_ , the ones they weren't supposed to have and yet did - the color she always found strongest in her memories was blue. Blue was the color of sea-salt ice cream. Blue was the color of their eyes - _all_ of theirs: Sora's and Kairi's, Roxas's and her own. Blue was the color of the waves, the ocean surrounding Destiny Islands.

But most of all, blue was the color of the sky.


	4. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started as an attempt to detangle/interpret the cutscene I've usually seen called "Snarl of Memories". How successful I am, up to you all.

She'd been wandering lost ever since she learned the truth. Puppet. Fabrication. Not a person, nor a Heartless, not even a Nobody. Created by the Organization in Castle Oblivion for some purpose. It had confirmed so many questions about herself, and yet had raised so many more. What was she? Why was she created? Why did she have the Keyblade? And most importantly, what about the memories?

The memories she had weren't hers, the ones of Sora and that girl he was always with. She was not his Nobody, nor hers. So why did she have their memories? They were so strong - filling her dreams and making her head heavy and fuzzy as she'd done her missions. Even now, they flashed and moved in the back of her mind, always there.

She moved from world to world, never staying for long, hiding whenever she saw a sign of a Black Coat. She didn't have to be clear on her identity to have a sense of self-preservation, and it was fairly clear that she would likely be branded as a deserter, and dealt with accordingly. It brought her earlier loss of her Keyblade into a much more horrifying light. If it hadn't come back, if she'd lost it for good, what would they have done: turned her into a Dusk? She wasn't even a Nobody to begin with. They'd probably have destroyed her.

She couldn't even bring herself to face Axel or Roxas, despite suspecting - from the few times she'd glimpsed them - that they were looking for her. They would want her to come back. She couldn't - not with the memories in her head a confusing mess and her questions still so muddled and tangled. So she ran, trying to sort through the visions and fragments that both were and weren't hers.

She couldn't hide forever though, and everything had finally come to a head that one day, as she'd visited the island Sora called his home. The memories inside of her buzzed in the back of her mind as she stepped across the sand, as they always did when she came here. She didn't care though - the Island was a beautiful place; she'd loved coming here even before she'd started remembering. Now, it was her only real place of solace and peace. There was too much chance of running into Roxas or Axel at the clock tower.

But as she'd walked across the bridge to the small islet, to the palm tree where three figures sat in the pictures painted in her mind, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. A _very_ familiar voice. She had a few moments of bone-deep horror as she turned to face the new arrival - realizing she'd let her guard down, that she'd been found - before several things happened at once.

The buzzing memories burst forth into a painful roar. Her ears filled with sound, her vision clouded with a sort of static. And at the same time, there was a sense of _pulling_ , of everything being drawn towards her. As she fell to her knees, clutching at her throbbing head, memories danced across her vision - memories that were _not_ Sora's. There were voices around her, talking of darkness and hearts and forgotten friends. Each word was painful, hitting her until it was all she could do to curl up in a ball and wait for it to end. Things were shifting, changing without any logic or sense that her pain-scattered mind could comprehend, until she didn't even know who she was or what was real and what was memory and what was a dream.

She didn't even notice someone running over; barely felt them pulling her up, holding her as she held her head and quietly begged _Stop, stop please make it stop-_

And then it _did_ stop, abruptly as a connection being severed. She tried dazedly to open her eyes - trying to see who it was, who was protecting her - but it was no use. She only had time for two quiet questions - "Who am I? What am I here for?" - before darkness claimed her, leaving her final statement unsaid.

 _I'm lost and I don't know what to do_.


	5. Is it You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular fic was a bit of an experiment in showing over telling. Here's hoping I did a good job!

Reaction.

_Repeat after me._

Compliance.

_Again. Say it again._

Response to stimuli.

_Very good. That is your name. You are number fourteen in this proud Organization. You would do well to remember that._

Words, meanings, pictures. Feet stepping across white ground. A voice speaking to her.

 _This is the last you'll ever see of these walls_.

Movement. Darkness. Light. White walls and ground and chairs. A booming call.

 _Let us all welcome one of the Keyblade's chosen._..

Head tilting up upon command. Patches of black against white. Faces. Patches of color - brown, red- gold. A patch of black and gold and pale pink. Something stirs.

* * *

"She" stands to the side, observing, not moving. Others pass by. Other Organization members. Her comerades. Her superiors. Some disappear in a swirl of black. The Darkness Corridors. How they travel between worlds. Never go in one without a Black Coat.

 _Number XIV's name... I wonder if it bears some significance._.

Number XIV. She is Number XIV. There are thirteen others besides her. Some of them are in front of her. Their colors are different - red, blue... gold. The gold one is watching her. She blinks back.

_You worried about the new kid? What was that name again..._

Name. Her name is Xion. The blue one says it, then the red, then the gold. An odd feeling prickles. The red and gold talk. Questions. She tries to understand, but the words are a blur.

_And our boss's name?_

Xemnas. The Superior. Leader of Organization XIII. Obey him at all costs. The red and gold ones leave. All that's left is a nameless question she can't voice.

* * *

She moves, breathes. She listens to orders. She does not walk alone, but always follows someone. They tell her what to do.

_Come along, Xion._

She is taken to a man with long pale hair. He talks loudly and moves about while she stands in a machine and watches silently.

_Yes, yes, it's performing perfectly!_

Others come and show her magic. Soon she can produce fire from her hands, though it feels slow and sluggish.

_Man, is that really all you can do? You got a ways to go..._

Every once in a while, she is taken to a room. There she is ordered to lie on a bed and close her eyes. She does so, and soon enough someone is ordering her up again. The process starts anew.

_It's time for more training._

She sees the one with gold hair again, as he speaks to the blue-haired one and disappears into a Darkness Corridor. As she watches, she puzzles. The question is still there.

* * *

A few days later, and suddenly things change. The pattern of training stops. She finds herself in the Gray Room, standing across from the gold-haired person, with the blue-haired one, Saïx speaking to him.

_Xion, go with him._

She follows, out into bright warmth. The place they're in now is so different, full of light and color. It's overwhelming, and she stares, as the gold-haired person shifts.

_Let's go._

She turns back to him, ready to leave. He stares back at her a moment, before looking away. She follows him as he leads her through this new place. Dark shadows rise from the ground, try to attack. Heartless. She is to defeat them. Yet something is missing. They find their target, and attack. The gold-haired person fights too, summoning a giant key she can't help but stare at. The question - forgotten in the awe of their new location - returns. They eliminate the Heartless and return.

_I've got someplace to be. You go ahead and RTC without me._

She watches him, wanting to do something, to... to answer the question inside of her, the one she still thinks about, but nothing comes. She turns and obeys. As she steps through the Darkness Corridor, she realizes. She knows him. Somehow, some way. She knows him. And she knows what she wants to ask.

* * *

She stands and waits, as the others talk around her, steeling herself for what she is going to try to do.

_My name's not "kiddo."_

Name. A name. She needs a name. Maybe then she can understand why, why this gold-haired person looks so familiar. She watches him, listens.

_Roxas, get to work._

There! That was it! The realization carries her through the mission, as they blast through a team of Deserters. They turn to leave.

I've got someplace to be again today, so go on ahead without me.

No! He can't leave yet, she still has to ask! She struggles and strains, opens a mouth she hasn't used since she first repeated her name, on a hazy day she can't really remember anymore.

"R-Roxas."

He turns back, stares at her. After the first push, it comes more naturally.

"Your name...it's...Roxas, isn't it?"

He seems surprised, and after a long moment, she tenses. Was she wrong? Was it not him? But then...

"Yeah, Xion. ...That's right."

And for the first time, it felt like she was a part of the world, thinking and understanding. With a faint smile, she turned to leave.


End file.
